


20 Slices of Basketball Life

by bob2ff



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Introspection, M/M, Multi, Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bob2ff/pseuds/bob2ff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty tales on the idiots that play competitive basketball, and the life and times that revolve around it. </p><p>Features vignettes, lists, multiple genres, multiple pairings and multiple characters. An exercise in experimentation for the 20 Things format.</p><p>Ch. 5 up: Twenty Steps on the Path to Closure. <em>The path to finding closure is a long, meandering one. But it helps to have friends along the way. Ogiwara and Kuroko take their first tentative steps on it.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 20 Attempts at 20 Things Lists

**Author's Note:**

> First written for BPS Challenge 71 (20 Things).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Miracles attempt to become more systematic, with Momoi’s help. It doesn’t go well, as to be expected. Set in Teikou-era.

**_20\. Twenty Books to read_ **

Akashi once harboured hopes about potentially making his team more civilized, more intellectual, more brains to match the brawn they already had. So he sat down with Momoi one day and proceeded to make lists.

For Aomine, he had books with lots of pictures (graphic novels mostly, with intelligent themes, for instance  _Maus_  and  _Persepolis_ ). For Kise, he had books with at least  _some_  romance and, lots of drama, in them ( _Anna Karenina,_ with some Shakespeare). For Murasakibara, he gave him cultural recipe books and folk tales. Midorima, and Kuroko, were the only ones he was comforted  _didn’t_  need to be guided. 

Needless to say, the lists either stayed neglected and ignored in the lockers where he placed them, used accidentally as autograph paper (“I thought it was scrap paper, sorry Akashichii~!) or had their very existence erased by sheer unawareness (“Huh? What list? Satsuki, stop trying to confuse me.”).

**_19\. Twenty Forehead Flicks_ **

When Nijimura came to practice and saw almost the entirety of Teikou’s first string nursing bright red spots on their foreheads, that was when he thought, huh, maybe I should go easier on these brats.

But then Aomine opens his mouth to say whatever comes to his mind, Kise flutters into practice waving charmingly at his screaming fangirls by the side, and Midorima trips over Murasakibara’s discarded snack wrappers. Nijimura decides that every single one of them deserves all the forehead flicks they had gotten  _and_  some. And so it becomes accepted truism that anyone with a forehead bruise is a member of Teikou’s celebrated male basketball team. 

**_18\. Twenty times the Miracles were just as, if not more, tsundere than Midorin_ **

Momoi wondered most of the time why the boys she hung around with were all oblivious idiots who didn’t know how to express their feelings properly.

Mukkun and his constant complaints about basketball, yet always staying, certain and true, at his spot below the net.  

Aomine-kun with his “carry your own bag, Satsuki” and his “stop bothering me” and his “why are you always hanging around me,” yet nonchalantly expecting her to be there whenever he needed her. And always being there for her in turn.

Akashi-kun and his lofty expectations for all of them to follow his demands, yet becoming unexpectedly indulging at some moments, with his genuine belief that everyone loved tofu soup as much as he did, thus treating them all to it one odd lunch time.

Ki-chan was the exception. He was perhaps  _too_  comfortable with showing his feelings. (Everyone concurred, Tetsu-kun above all).

**_17\. Twenty girls who crushed on at least one of the Miracles_ **

“Don’t you want a girlfriend, Midorimachii?” Kise teased, as Midorima tossed yet another love letter into the rubbish bin.

“Oha Asa has decreed that my true love would be someone older. This girl is younger than me,” he sniffed, disdainfully. “I’m not going to waste my time on something that won’t last.”

Aomine sniggered. “As if any girl can spend longer than five minutes without getting sick of you, anyway.”

Midorima stiffened. “And how many love letters have  _you_ gotten? Your perpetually uncouth conduct and unsophisticated way with words must get you many admirers.” 

Borne from the ensuing tussle, a running tally of love letters received was thus pasted on the Teikou boy’s locker room notice board. Akashi eventually won, of course.

**_16\. Twenty instances when Kuroko scares them out of their wits_ **

The Miracles always thought it was thanks to Kuroko that they now had nerves of steel. They supposed it helped with the pressures of competing in basketball, in a way.

It was not without some growing pains, though. Kuroko obtained many bruises from accidental, reflexive punches and one  _painful_ , defensive shove from Murasakibara, before they finally started getting used to it.

**_15\. Twenty moments Teikou’s first string would rather forget_ **

The First Year Training Camp resulted them not being able to be in a room together without flushing, and every brush or touch resulted in a nervous jump, for at least a week. Nijimura always blamed Aomine for irritating the dorm administrators so much with his demands that they put  _all twenty boys_  in one room for one night.   

The Incident at the Onsen was another one. It remains to be said a competition ensued, one ruler was thoroughly sanitized, then destroyed, and it was a  _big_  deal that no one would say anything about it ever, for the sake of each of their manly prides.

**_14\. Twenty times the Miracles were confused by outsiders about having crushes on one another_ **

“But Momoi-san, don’t Aomine-kun and Kise-kun spend all that time together doing ‘one-on-ones’ after practice?” the first time Momoi was asked that, from a group of earnest, worried underclassmen who made up majority of Kise’s fan club, she fell over giggling. As things progressed, Momoi found herself even more amazed, and amused, at the depth of girls and their imaginations. 

“Would you rather date Aomine-kun or Midorima-kun?” the girls in Momoi’s class giggled and blushed, comparing Aomine-kun’s sleekness on the basketball court with the strength evident in Midorima’s arms as he made accurate shot after shot.

“Or,” they tittered, “Are both of them already together?”

Momoi found it most fun when she could join in their discussions, though. “Didn’t you know? Midorin’s taken — he and Akashi-kun are crazy about each other! What do you think they do during those shogi sessions?”

As it were, Midorima and Akashi were thoroughly confused about the ‘audience’ they had during their next shogi session.

**_13\. Twenty Lucky Items_ **

Midorima, in his capacity as vice captain, thought it would be an educational, productive, team-bonding activity to organize a scavenger hunt for lucky items.

One torturous afternoon later, when Aomine thought he would blush forever from having to sing an enka ballad acapella, and Murasakibara was almost in tears, throwing a tantrum for having to give up a packet from his candy stash, Akashi decreed that Midorima was henceforth banned from planning their team activities.

**_12\. Twenty flirtations that were lost on oblivious, basketball-obsessed boys_ **

Momoi tried, several times, to communicate to Tetsu-kun how she felt about him. But, as with everything she did, she went about her flirting strategy, well-researched from several magazines, by first field testing them.

A bitten lip, to showcase their ‘plumpness’ and ‘kissability’. “Why are you making that weird expression? I  _knew_ it — Satsuki! You ate the pudding I was saving for later, didn’t you?!” 

A strategic hand lingering on your dreamboat’s hand. “Momoi. Please remove your hand. It is getting in the way of my taping. I need to ensure my fingers are taped thoroughly, or else everything will be ruined.” 

A giggle and a wink. “Momoichii~! What do you think about karaoke as a team-bonding exercise?” With the response of a returned giggle and wink.

A gentle lean on the shoulder. “Haah, Sacchin, what’s wrong? You’re making me feel tired and sleepy too...maybe we should eat some Pocky.” 

And finally, a flip of the hair to clinch the man of your dreams. “Momoi-san, your hair is getting longer. Perhaps you should tie it up so it does not get in the way when you are performing your manager duties. As the captain, I cannot tolerate any risk of underperformance.”

**_11\. Twenty one-on-ones that could have happened but didn’t_ **

Even though Aomine and Kise ended up the only ones that had practiced one-on-ones regularly during their time at Teikou, Akashi had once thought that it would be interesting to pit the Miracles’ individual skills against one another.

One ruthless, gladiator-style training afternoon later, he had thoroughly revised his opinion. It was hard enough trying to manage them as a team, let alone manage the disputes whenever a particularly insufferable matchup occurred. “Midorimachii, you stepped on my foot on  _purpose_!” “It’s not my fault you don’t look where you’re going.” 

Or, “Murasakibara,  _move_  already! You keep getting in my way.” “Eh, can’t Minechin score from there anyway?” It was basically trying to manage a bunch of squabbling toddlers. 

**_10\. Twenty foods_ **

Aomine’s failed popsicles (more sugar water than anything). Kuroko’s hardboiled eggs (edible but bland). Midorima’s attempt at home-made shiruko (decent, but so overloaded with red bean they had to  _chew_  rather than drink it). Kise’s bottled mineral water (“You said it was a potluck, so we can bring whatever we want!”).

An evening of Teikou basketball team end-of-year party, and the only things edible were Murasakibara’s profiteroles and Akashi’s (catered) sashimi. The congregation of hungry teenage boys stuffed their faces at a fast food restaurant later.

The less was said about Momoi’s ‘fried rice,’ the better.

**_9\. Twenty reasons why Aomine Daiki is an idiot_ **

Momoi had multiple  _binders_ of lists,  _and_  she could deliver full-length, impressively-cited dissertations  _from memory_ on “An Indepth Study on the Oblivious Idiocy of Aomine Daiki.” She had years of data on that, after all.

But when he asked her, loudly (in front of Tetsu-kun!), how come she still kept the plushie basketball his mum had given her from when she was four, if she was supposedly trying to be “a sophisticated grown up lady now” — she decided teach him a  _lesson_  on how  _not_  to be a loudmouth, by crowdsourcing more data from the public. And when she started the list, pasted on Teikou first string’s locker room door, literally  _every one_  chipped into it. 

Midorin appended an extra  _three_  pages to the list on that day itself, all written in his beautiful, precise handwriting, on  _quality_ paper. 

By the end of the year, the list had become a novel-sized behemoth worthy of the National Archives of Japan.

**_8\. Twenty reasons why Kise Ryouta is an idiot_ **

Aomine could be scheming, when he wanted to be. So a day after Kise had added  _his_  input to Aomine’s list (“Aominechii asked me once if boy models ever got scared of how  _tall_  girl models were”), Aomine took his revenge. 

The next day, another list was added, in the honourary spot  _next_  to Aomine’s list. By the next day, half the list was written in mysteriously neat writing, appearing suspiciously one day after Kuroko had stayed back later than the others to supposedly ‘clean out his locker.’

Within the next few days, however, the list was taken down, because it had been covered in girls’ lipstick and “Kise-kun love~”, written in glittery pens. Kise always thought it proved the list wrong. Everyone else thought otherwise. 

**_7\. Twenty reasons why Akashi Seijurou is an idiot_ **

Self-preservation was an instinct sadly lost on at least half of the Miracles. Momoi walked into the Teikou locker room one day to find Kise, Aomine and Kuroko huddled over a list. Well, Tetsu-kun looked very reluctant to be there, at least.

“Satsuki, look at this training diet Akashi assigned me for next week!” Aomine shook the plan in her face, indignantly. “There’s  _goya stew_  in it! I  _hate_  goya!” Kise just nodded vigorously next to Aomine, still thoroughly enamoured by him. He would have followed Aominechii  _anywhere_ , even to the depths of his idiocy, at that point.

“So what are you going to do with that list telling Akashi-kun how idiotic he supposedly is?” Momoi asked, eyebrows raised. Kuroko answered on their behalf, resignedly. “They want to put it in Akashi-kun’s locker, hoping that  _maybe_  he wouldn’t recognize their handwriting, even though they both have distinctly the  _worse_  handwriting in our year.” 

Needless to say, the list never reached Akashi’s locker. It mysteriously disappeared from Aomine’s locker, was ripped up, burned, and its ashes scattered over the Sumida River. It was also safe to say anyone would lose if they played poker against Momoi and Kuroko — they had the best unreadable faces.

**_6.Twenty Pauses_ **

Sometimes, when they all crashed onto the benches in the locker rooms, after another hard, ruthless day of training, they were quiet, for a while, trying to catch their breath. Momoi went around, passing towels and Pocari, brushing her hand gently over their heads, smiling gently at them, coaxing them to stretch properly or else their muscles would cramp. 

Moments like this, Momoi felt so proud of all of them, for loving basketball so much, for the effort they put into loving it, her heart felt ready to burst.

**_5\. Twenty Leadership Moments_ **

Momoi sometimes found herself wondering what would happen if any other Miracle but Akashi-kun had been their captain. She looked at Midorin, already their vice captain, and his impressive dedication and effort towards his goals. But then there was his “everyone should listen to Oha Asa for the optimal start to the day” and his “Murasakibara, sit up straight and stretch properly.” 

She looked at Aomine-kun, and his casual, friendly way with everyone, always willing to play basketball with them regardless of whether they were third string or first string. She looked at Ki-chan’s natural magnetism, attracting people to follow him wherever he went. She looked at Mukkun's sheer intimidating presence, compelling others to obey him.

The one she was most fascinated with all the possibilities, however, was Tetsu-kun. His understated yet effective way of just  _looking_ , which always made Aomine-kun shuffle and apologize for whatever stupid thing he had said.  His quiet chiding always able to stop Aomine-kun and Ki-chan’s tussles. Momoi always thought he had the leadership presence of Akashi-kun, even if it was a lot more understated.

**_4\. Twenty Losses that could have occurred, but didn’t_ **

When the Miracles go into their first national championship with Teikou, the pressure is so strong, so heavy, that even Momoi feels it. She starts doubting if they could actually win when everyone already assumed they would.

So she starts a list, of the potential middle schools that could take them down. Shoei High School, with Kiyoshi Teppei. Koen Junior High. And Yamata West. She stopped the list after Yomi Junior High, though.

Aomine-kun had obliterated it, formless shots and swift movements decimating Yomi’s hopes of even touching Teikou’s reign at the top.

**_3\. Twenty Opponents, or Almost-friendships that never were_ **

Aomine thinks sometimes about Inoue, and whether they could have been friends, had they been in the same school.  

Murasakibara thinks about Kiyoshi Teppei, and then tries to focus on eating his Pocky, trying not to think about every other person’s basketball hopes he had, knowingly or otherwise, crushed.

Kise, very rarely, thinks about Haizaki, and the tragedy of being replaced, of being discarded.

Akashi thinks about his past opponents, then his past victories, but never his past comrades. 

**_2\. Twenty actions, words, thoughts that could have saved Teikou’s teamwork_ **

Momoi wondered why there had been so many unsaid words, arms that weren’t slung over shoulders, smiles that were never given. She wondered why the love for basketball could change people. She wondered if it was really love for the game, or the love for winning, in the end. She wondered if it was partly her fault.

 ** _1._** As her third year at Teikou ended, Momoi eventually stopped trying to make lists. It didn’t seem to matter anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first attempt at the 20 Things format! I wanted to be meta about it, so I wrote some Teikou-era Miracles hijinks about them trying to write 20 things lists.


	2. Twenty Minutes between Mayuzumi Chihiro and Akashi Seijurou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Winter Cup. A lot can happen in twenty minutes, especially since that much happened in forty, during Rakuzan’s match in the final.

**_11:01 am._** The view really was beautiful in the spring, with the sun shining over Kyoto. It helped, of course, that Rakuzan was in a beautiful part of Kyoto. Where the contrast between old and new wasn't too jarring, and the elegant old buildings by the side stood proud, pristine and haughty. 

Mayuzumi had seen it all more than once, though. Right now, he was more interested in the trials of Kyon. Huh, something about the way Kyon was forced to follow Haruhi wherever she wanted to go reminded him of a certain _someone_ he was always forced to obey. Light novel lifted, it just obscured the gorgeous expanse in front of him as he lounged on the school roof. 

 ** _11:02 am_** **.** Speaking of, there he was, almost right on time. Mayuzumi sighed, and put his novel down. His fingers tightened convulsively around the bag containing his old Rakuzan basketball uniform. He really was graduating, from high school, from basketball, from _Akashi Seijurou_.

The Rakuzan basketball team sendoff for their senior team had been the same as it always had been, every year. Their team had managed to win the Winter Cup, holding their position, as always had been expected, as they always had for the past five years. So no celebration had been held for their sake. No tears, no heartfelt speeches, no pats on the back. Like the  utilitarian factory it was in producing winners, the Rakuzan basketball team let its third-years go, efficiently, without any fanfare. 

All Mayuzumi had to show from his time as the only third-year starting players in one of the best high school basketball teams in Japan was a formal chorus of “Thank you for all your hard work” and a signed form releasing him from the club. It was all he expected, though. He was ready to move on, to leave the school, and its basketball, forever. It was what he should have done, moving on from basketball, a long time ago.

 ** _11:03 am_** **.** Akashi smiled at him, his lips perfectly shaped to the curvature of a pleasant but detached smile. It was a _nothing more_ kind of smile. “Chihiro, you look well.”

Measured, distanced, perfectly calibrated. No wonder he could teach Mayuzumi how to control his expressions — the brat was just as good at physically controlling his facial expressions as the best poker players.

Looking at him, so poised and in control, Mayuzumi felt irritated. Now he felt as though the beautiful day was ruined. _Akashi_ had to be the one to change it, of course. He was always disrupting Mayuzumi’s equilibrium, even when Mayuzumi thought he had already been perfectly happy with how he was. 

“Here,” he shoved the bag at him. “Now leave me alone so I can read in peace.”

 ** _11:04 am._** He lifted the light novel, intentionally blocking Akashi from his view. What he saw was not words on a page, though. He still saw the trajectory of the ball, the triumphant, amazing feelings he felt at the first part of the match when the ball came to him, swift and sure, almost all the time. He saw the degradation in the second part, when the ball went _around_ him, and he became as useless as a pole in the middle of the court.   

His grip unconsciously tightened on his novel. He both hated and was begrudgingly grateful to Akashi, for the fact he could still feel that way, weeks after the match.

 ** _11:05 am._** He knew he wasn't the type of person to attract anyone's attention. He didn't have the peppy flashiness of Hayama, the mystery of Mibuchi, the overbearing demeanor of Nebuya, the overwhelming, absolute leadership presence of Akashi. He didn't have the magnetizing presence of the Miracles. He didn't even have the intrigue Kuroko Tetsuya seemed to inspire in everyone. In short, he was more bland rice than vanilla.

 He would have been okay with that, though. People were ordinary everywhere, after all. Life went on, sometimes even better for the ordinary than the not. But then Akashi had to notice him. And it was just like Akashi to pull the people he wanted in his clutch in his machinations, his subtle and overbearing way like ocean currents, dangerous and alluring all at once.

 ** _11:06 am._** Akashi took the bag with much more grace than the way Mayuzumi had given him. “The Rakuzan basketball team greatly appreciates your time here,” Akashi said, calmly, politely, unperturbed. Full of social charm, yet bereft of any form of sincerity whatsoever. The perfect voice of a politician or diplomat.

Mayuzumi would have just left it at that. He _should_ have been fine letting Akashi walk out of his life, never seeing him again. It would have been a _good_ thing, not having Akashi Seijurou in his life, always factoring him into his machinations, his control so sure and certain his followers couldn’t help but heed him.

 ** _11:07 am._** But something about the way Akashi had said that — as though Mayuzumi had been any, random throwaway player — got to him. He had played in the Interhigh, the Winter Cup with him. He had _won_ the Winter Cup with him. He deserved _more_ than a brusque, through-the-motions acknowledgement of his time with Rakuzan’s team.

So Mayuzumi lunged at Akashi, and tackled him. Or rather, he _would_ have tackled him down, if Akashi had not dodged. It was as though he had eyes in the back of his head.

 ** _11:08 am._** Mayuzumi was bigger, taller, and possibly stronger, than Akashi. But Akashi had trained with Murasakibara Atsushi. He had trained with the speed and reflexes of Aomine Daiki. He had watched Kise Ryouta's unbounded potential, and Midorima Shintarou's unblinking dedication and effort. Mayuzumi was no match, as he never had been, against the Miracles.

 ** _11:09 am._** Every lunge, strike, punch, kick was dodged, parried or defended, almost effortlessly. Akashi’s orange eye glinted, knowingly, and his expression remained unchanged. It only spurred Mayuzumi’s effort and rage further.

"Do you still not understand that I can anticipate every move you're going to make?" Akashi says, calmly. “You’re expanding pointless energy with your behaviour, Chihiro.”

 ** _11.:10 am._** Mayuzumi only got more frustrated. He swung at Akashi with a growl, lost his balance, and landed on his knees in front of Akashi. Breathing heavily, Mayuzumi felt the weird conflict of hate simmering under his skin, with the slow draining of his energy. He hated that he was treating Akashi like the emperor he expected he _should_ be treated. But he was worn out.

 ** _11:11 am._** "You made me feel like I could be someone special," Mayuzumi breathed out, quietly, raggedly. He hated that Akashi could render him so broken and helpless that he was spilling out vulnerabilities he normally kept almost shamefully, in a vice grip close to his heart. 

"It wasn't anything personal," Akashi said. He wasn't trying to be cruel, although anyone could have thought the blunt statement was. But Mayuzumi was used to Akashi Seijurou, and he knew the genuine explanation was the most respect Akashi could have given him at this point.

 ** _11:12 am._** "It was cruel of you," Mayuzumi had to say it. Even though it was the past, even though he was trying to move on, he was supposed to move on. "You gave me a taste of being somebody in basketball. Then you took it away, just like that."

Mayuzumi's head hung as he intentionally avoided looking into those eyes, so certain and sure in its sight that it was cruel, like staring at your own fate in the face. He watched Akashi's feet move towards him.

"You understand that I did what I had to do to ensure a win for Rakuzan," Akashi stated. It wasn't a question, because Mayuzumi _did_ understand. He _did_ know that what happened had been done for the best interests of a Rakuzan. But the fight had released something ugly, clawing and desperate, from within him, and he couldn't help but be swept with its impulses. 

 ** _11:13 am._** “I helped Rakuzan win. I helped the team win. But it was not my win,” Mayuzumi gritted out, not even caring that his voice sounded ragged, broken. It was _yours_ — he didn’t say. It was Akashi, though. He would know.

Mayuzumi pressed his face to the floor. He squeezed his eyes, tight. Breathed deeply, in and out, trying to even out his breathing, and the resentment and hate churning in his chest along with it.

“Rakuzan won. That’s all that matters,” with his eyes closed, Mayuzumi could hear better the flawless cadence of Akashi’s voice, surgical and precise in its measuredness. When Akashi acted like that, talked like that, it made Mayuzumi feel _bad_ for acting the way he did. It made him regret losing control, when Akashi did not. 

He heard Akashi's footsteps away from him.

"It would be wise for you to focus on your university entrance exams now," Akashi said, calmly, as though nothing had happened, and they were just chatting casually over a cup of tea.

 ** _11:14 am._** Mayuzumi nodded, his face still pressed to the ground. Even after everything, he still couldn't quash the instinct to obey, to acknowledge Akashi's leadership. Akashi induced that instinct out of anyone he encountered. It wasn't a conscious thing.

 ** _11:15 am._** He heard rather than watched Akashi leave. But then Mayuzumi heard a soft, "Thank you for your hard work." The same, rote words said by the team, but somehow said differently. Said not in Akashi’s normal, measured, tones, but with a tinge of acknowledgement, a very slight crack in his control. A crack in control he had deigned to give Mayuzumi. 

He raised his head, but Akashi was gone.

 ** _11:16 am._** Mayuzumi slowly fell onto his back, and contemplated the sky. Blue and beautiful, clear, Kyoto in spring sky. Cold, too, in its beauty, in its icy blue. He heard the distant cheers of the baseball team. The ace must have pitched a skillful, tricky fastball. That could be the only reason for the celebration, after all. Someone special, somewhere, must have done something special, somehow. 

Mayuzumi practiced the steps, slowly.

 ** _11:17 am._** Relax eyebrows, ease the tension in the muscles between the forehead.

 ** _11:18 am._** Even out lips, halt any potential curvature.

Akashi had taught him well.

 ** _11:19 am._** Bit by bit, Mayuzumi felt the blank, emotionless mask slip on easily, as though he had been schooled to do so from birth. Even if it was only because Akashi Seijurou had been his teacher.

 _ **11.20 am.**_ Mayuzumi got up. He closed his light novel. He walked down, step by step, from the school roof. He navigated through throngs of high school students, all not noticing him or noticing him but overlooking him. The mask was an amazing thing, Mayuzumi thought. It transformed him into someone _thoroughly_ ordinary. Unlike the mask of Kuroko Tetsuya, who was special enough to elicit fear, surprise, fascination, irritation. Mayuzumi’s mask evoked ignorance.

But Mayuzumi felt he would move on. He _had_ to move on. He would continue, being the thoroughly unspecial, normal person he had been, before Akashi Seijurou. Maybe eventually, he would begin to feel like he was okay with being ordinary, again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this I was finding new ways to experiment with the 20 things format, beyond just lists. Always happy to hear what you guys think!


	3. The Twenty-Year Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aomine starts crushing heavily on Alex, to Kagami's horror and Momoi's amusement. 20 Things Scavenger Hunt!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s my 20 things scavenger hunt: there are ten ‘twenty-things’ in here! See if you can spot them all! 
> 
> Please note that the twenty-year rule is not counted, because that would be cheating (it's the title, after all =P).

Anyone who knew even a little about Aomine, and who had even caught a glimpse of Alex, should have seen this coming. What first attracts Aomine's attention is one, well, to be accurate, _two_ main things about Alex. It did not need to be said what they were.

When he first saw her, he had been struck dumb, mouth hanging. She fluttered to where Kagami and him were, stretching and sniping at each other as usual after one of their regular one-on-ones. She planted a kiss on Kagami, and demanded he grab her a beer and a basketball, because she was 'thirsty for some drunk basketball.'

And when her eyes landed on Aomine, she grinned at him. "You're the one Taiga's always going on about, huh? The one who taught him about the Zone."

Aomine smirked. "The dumbass is still miles away from catching up to me, did he also tell you that?" From the distance, Kagami glared and threw a beer can at his head. He caught it without looking, and continued smirking at Alex.

The next few days after that, Kagami got a flood of messages, numbering up to twenty a day, all bombarding him with questions about Alex.

How did you meet someone like _that_? What's her type? Did she tell you what the WNBA was like? What's her cup size? Eventually, out of frustration, Kagami gave him Alex's number. Alex could deal with her newest number one fan by herself.

It was obvious she enjoyed the attention. When Aomine asked her why she hadn't kissed him when she first met him, she virtuously said Kagami had taught her Japanese weren't used to kisses as greetings.

Then she ignored his "I'm totally fine with that as a greeting!" and graciously got him to carry her things around whenever she visited Kagami and him on their one-on-one games.

***

"Hey, Satsuki," Aomine said, as they sat across from one another in a cafe after another shopping trip for basketball gear. "How do you ask a girl out and guarantee she'll say yes?"

Momoi spat her drink out. "What. You're actually _interested_ in someone? Dai-chan, are you sick?"

Aomine glared at her. "Not just anyone." Momoi started getting concerned as his eyes started to shine. She hadn't seen Dai-chan's eyes shine like that since he was ten, and had successfully managed to collect all twenty collectible NBA basketball player cards.

"Alexandra Garcia, ex-WNBA player. And she's that idiot Kagami's basketball mentor, so he gets to spend time with her all the time!" Aomine disgruntledly swiped a cherry from Momoi's sundae.

"Kagamin's mentor," Momoi said, thoughtfully, whacking his hand away, wielding the spoon with practiced ease. "She's quite a bit older than us."

Aomine waved his hand dismissively. "As long as it's below twenty years, it's fine."

Momoi raised her eyebrows. "Not that these rules aren't completely arbitrary and ridiculous, but isn't the rule normally half your age plus 7?"

Aomine rolled his eyes. "Too much math. For me, below twenty years older is fine for now."

Momoi was intrigued, and amused. "Dai-chan, you are hopeless with girls." Before he opened his mouth to counter her, she said "And I don't count. Alright, I'll help you out. It could be fun!"

Then her smile turned shrewd. "But now you owe me _at least_ twenty favours."

***

"Oh, Aomine wants to meet up with us before we shop at Shibuya tomorrow," Alex said, reading her messages. She smiled, sweetly. "Volume 20 of Naruto, and some others, just came out! Maybe he'll help me carry all the manga I'm planning to buy if I ask nicely, and call him Daiki. What do you think, Taiga?"

"I actually feel bad for the guy," Kagami said, awed. "Congratulations, Alex, you're so manipulative you've actually made me feel bad for _Aomine_ , jerkass of jerkasses."

Alex pouted, and looked affronted. "What are you talking about? I'm not _manipulating_ him. I'm actually considering asking him out. He's quite cute, isn't he? And those _moves_ on the court," she smiled suggestively at Kagami. _Wow_ , she mouthed at him.

Kagami started gagging. Alex and Aomine together sounded like an even worse nightmare than the time he had dreamt of being trapped in a room with twenty Nigous, and a pot of Coach's cooking as the _only_ source of food.

***

Kagami was surprised to see Momoi there with Aomine, when they met up in Shibuya the next day. Wasn't Aomine worried Alex would get the wrong idea? Then again, the two were always together, and didn't seem to care what people might think. Their friendship was weird like that.

He watched resignedly as Alex exclaimed at Momoi's prettiness, and made to kiss her. Momoi had jumped, startled, and dodged. She was no match for Alex's reflexes, however, and got a kiss anyway. Aomine had first stared, a glazed expression on his face, then looked at Momoi jealously, in betrayal.

"Moral support," Momoi whispered to Kagami's querying expression. Kagami opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but she elbowed him and jerked her head at Aomine.

He walked straight up to Alex, confidently. "You, me, on a date Friday night?" He leaned into her space and smiled, slow and sure and meaningful. Confident and sexy, or so he hoped he came across.

Momoi, watching him, knew better. She saw one hand, fingers twitching, itching to rub the back of his head. She saw his feet planted firmly on the ground, stifling the urge to shuffle.

She knew all his nervous tics. She had catalogued them in her mind, all twenty of them. It was worthy to note none of them came out, ever, before a basketball match. Asking a girl on a date was different, though.

Alex pressed a single finger on his chest, teasingly. "You're on!" She winked. "But, I choose what we do."

Aomine's face lit up, and he started nodding eagerly before he realized what he was doing and cleared his throat loudly. "Sounds good," he said, nonchalantly. Momoi saw his fist clenching, ready to pump up in delight, however.

Alex leaned up to his ear, and whispered into it. Winking at him, and at Momoi, she sauntered off.

"Come on Taiga!" she called back, to a frozen Kagami in horror, still not believing what the hell just happened. "I bet the lines for the manga are starting soon!"

Kagami blinked, slowly unfreezing. Then he grabbed Momoi by the shoulders. "Listen, Momoi," he said, urgently. "We have to follow them on their date."

Momoi looked at him, defensive and prickly, protective over Aomine as she always was. "You know Dai-chan won't do anything to Alex-san. He's too much of an oblivious idiot."

Kagami scoffed, rolling his eyes. "It's not Alex I'm worried about, it's that idiot." Then he looked at her meaningfully. "It's going to be both painfully horrifying and amusing to watch."

Momoi nodded. "Understood." Then she smiled, sharply. "I'll bring my camera."

***

"Here's our date," Alex said, as they stood in the centre of the outdoor courts she had asked him to meet.

Aomine's face went blank, even as he reflexively caught the ball she lobbed casually to him as she placed a six-pack of beer by the side of the court with some chips and dip. "Our date is playing basketball?"

Alex winked at him. "That's right! We're gonna play a one-on-one, then stuff our faces on chips and dip."

Aomine looked like he didn't know what to feel — excitement that the date was going to be basketball, which he could never resist, or crestfallen that the date didn't sound very date-like at all. Hell, he did this with Kagami all the time! But then he smirked, and spinned the ball in his hands. "I'm not gonna go easy on you just because it's a date."

Alex smiled, challengingly, and from Kagamin’s and her hidden viewpoint, Momoi saw the flash of the WNBA-level in her. Awe-inspiring and scary, at the same time. The kind of feeling the Miracles inspired. "I wouldn't expect anything less from a good date."

Aomine would look back at that one-on-one as one of the best he'd ever played. Not because the game was brilliant, even though it was. It was because he had found himself falling for the first time, for something other than basketball.

The first twenty minutes, it hadn't been about skill at all. They weren't even keeping score— they were just trying to play the best basketball they could. It was basketball for the sake of basketball. Aomine had not realized how long it was that he had not played that kind of basketball, and how long he had needed to play basketball without having to compete against someone. And Alex had made that basketball happen. He fell for her, for doing that for him, what he didn't even realize he needed.

Beside Momoi, even Kagami stopped whining for having to stay still in one spot for so long.  They were both transfixed. Kagami found his fingers twitching, wanting to play basketball, just the way the Miracles always inspired him to do so. And Momoi felt the tears come despite herself, watching the Dai-chan she hadn't seen in a long while return, playing basketball the way she hadn't seen him play since he had just started playing, and was first discovering his love for it.

***

After the game, Alex and Aomine lounged side by side on the bleachers, taking chugs of beer. Alex leaned her head on Aomine's shoulder. He gulped and tried not to blush.

"So, Alex," he began, forced casualness in his voice, and in the stiffness in his posture as he tried to keep still, to keep her leaning comfortably on him. "Think you'd like to go on a real date next time?"

Alex goodnaturedly shoved him, even as she leaned on him. "What do you mean, this isn't a _real_ date?  Here's a life lesson for you: the best dates are dates like this, when two people with a common love for something can do it together, without any pretenses. Just enjoying what you love, together."

Aomine felt his heart begin to swell, and soar. So she had liked spending time with him.

But then she continued, "You're a good kid. And amazing in basketball." Aomine felt his heart clench at the mention of 'kid', then start to sink.

"You're gonna find someone much more awesome than me, I promise," Alex said. Her smile was understanding, and kind. Aomine hated that it was so beautiful, in its kindness, in its rejection of his feelings.

"Taiga told me a bit about your backstory with Kuroko. You seem like you try to be a lone ranger, shutting out everyone, even when you need them," her head felt warm on his shoulder, and Aomine was torn between wanting to interrupt her, to tell her that he would never shut _her_ out, and being transfixed, stuck dumb at how her words and understanding struck him to the core.

"I'm glad you decided to open up, and share your feelings with me," she sat up. It felt cold and empty, without her leaning there. "But I think if you try doing that with the people around you, who already love and care for you," she smiled, that devastatingly kind one, "you'll be able to find someone who deserves you more than I do."

She raised her beer can to him. "I wish you all the best!"

Aomine looked at her. He hoped the wistfulness and longing didn't show in his gaze. Then, sighing, he cracked a grin back. It wasn't his normal one. "Cheers!"

It would be a while before he would feel like that towards anyone, he thought. It felt a little like when he had lost his love for basketball, for a while. It was hard to find that feeling, and easy to lose.

Before they left, Alex leaned up, and pressed her lips to Aomine's. It was tender and gentle, but Aomine's heart ached with the leaden weight of there being nothing more. "Good luck, Daiki! I expect to see you in the NBA in future. I'll bet a million twenty American dollar-bills on it!"

"Thanks. For everything," Aomine's voice cracked a little, and he cringed at his words. What the hell kind of parting words was that, for a date? But Alex only smiled brighter, and mussed his hair affectionately.

***

Kagami stretched, groaning. "Man, I feel a new respect for your scouting now. Spying on people is hard work."

Momoi whacked him on the shoulder. "I don't just spy. It takes more skill than that." Then she stared after Aomine, eyes worried. "I hope he's alright."

Kagami gazed after them thoughtfully. "I kind of already expected Alex to do something like this. I think he'll be alright, in a while. Alex is a great mentor, in more ways than just basketball."

Momoi smiled. "She is." And she began thinking about all the ways in which she could help make Dai-chan would feel alright again, after his first real heartbreak from a girl. Basketball would do it — it always helped, when it came to Dai-chan. 

***

"Hey, Satsuki," Aomine brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, and Momoi was immediately suspicious.

"What did you do?" She said accusingly.

Aomine looked affronted. "Nothing!" He looked away from her (another nervous tic!) and shuffled his feet.

"Thanks for helping me out with Alex," he mumbled. He sighed, heavily. "It didn't work out." Momoi's heart broke for him, the way it had when he had first started losing his love for basketball, back at Teikou when it was easy to lose that love when winning was all that mattered.

She affixed a bright smile on her face, armed with the memory of the 20-step plan she had worked on all night to help Dai-chan get over his failed first real love, after basketball. She opened her mouth, but then he cut her off.

He was staring at his shoes, hands stuffed in his pockets awkwardly. "Want to watch Tokyo Cinq Reves play in the BJ League playoffs together this Saturday? I’ve got tickets."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Nineteen Denials (and one Pseudo-acceptance). _The key to understanding a tsundere like Midorima is reading between the lines. Takao knows this much too well. The evolution of a bond, read between tsundere statements._


	4. Nineteen Denials (and one Pseudo-acceptance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The key to understanding a tsundere like Midorima is reading between the lines. Takao knows this much too well. The evolution of a bond, read between tsundere statements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is much subtler than my other 20 Things submissions! There are 19 tsundere denial statements, and one pseudo-tsundere-style acceptance. See if you can find them all!

“You look ridiculous.”

Takao stopped practicing his shooting forms, and looked at Midorima. “I thought you were ignoring me until I stopped following you around?” It had been just a day after he had declared he would make Midorima Shintarou acknowledge him with a “roaring pass,” after all.

Midorima pushed his glasses up.

“You are a nuisance to my personal regular practice, that is correct. But I would prefer that Shuutoku _not_ become a laughing stock due to its point guard’s ridiculous shooting form.”

Takao smiled, and allowed Midorima to demonstrate all the ways Takao had gotten it wrong, Midorima’s slender hands warm and gentler than expected as they guided his own.

***

Takao watched him. Midorima Shintarou was sitting by himself in lunch again. Sitting properly, appropriately, as though he were sitting at a traditional kotatsu table, instead of the mass-produced plastic chairs and tables that made up Shuutoku’s cafeteria. Sitting as though he didn’t care he was alone, although he was sitting too stiffly, a little too self-consciously, to appear completely comfortable to be in solitude.

He held his chopsticks gracefully, precisely, as though he held all the years of Japanese culture and history on two slender wooden sticks. Primly eating bento, the pieces of pickled vegetables arranged neatly in a row.

“Hey Shin-chan! As thanks for helping me with shooting all this week, I’ll show you something cool!” Takao leaned over from behind Midorima, and rested his chin on his shoulder.

Takao felt him start slightly, eyes widened. Then rearranging his expression as though he had always known Takao was there. He very deliberately moved away so Takao’s chin was now on thin air rather than more-comfortable-than-expected broad shoulders.

“And I was just enjoying the peace. Are you going to bother me during lunchtime too?”

Takao smiled, and grabbed his bento box. He spluttered in protest, but did not try to swipe it back as Takao led the way.

***

“You’re here again, huh, Shin-chan? Aw, I like having lunch here with you too.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I can’t stand your presence, much less anything as preposterous as that.” Opening his bento box, whipping out his chopsticks, all with the decorousness of a ritual done daily for years. “It’s just that it is more peaceful here than the tiresome noise of the cafeteria.”

Takao smiled, and hovered a hand hopefully over an onigiri. Midorima levelled a glare at him — he backed off.

But later, the onigiri was still pristine. “I am full,” Midorima said loftily, with a gravity and weight that belied the ludicrousness of a tall, athletic teenage boy not being able to finish his lunch. Then, deliberately _not_ meaningfully, “You might as well have it — wasting food is unseemly.”

Takao grinned widely, stuffed it in his mouth, and leaned on Midorima contentedly as he chewed. Midorima unsuccessfully tried to shove him off before stopping, resignedly. It was kind of windy up on the rooftop, and Takao was warm, anyway.

***

“This is highly inconvenient.” But Midorima handed his notebook to Takao.

“Thanks Shin-chan! You’re the best!” Takao flung his arms around Midorima and squeezed.

“Takao. _Let_. _Go_.”

“But no one has ever agreed to tutor me before! And from the great Shin-chan, no less.”

“No one would be able to stand aside doing nothing while you besmirch the good name of Shuutoku’s basketball team with your incompetence.”

“You must have lots of experience tutoring basketball teammates!” Takao instantly regretted his tendency to speak before thinking.

Midorima’s condescending gaze was suddenly not on Takao, but caught in a past when he was not isolated due to his abilities, but accepted _because_ of them. Takao thought fast.

“I’m gunning for all A’s next exams!” With that, Midorima was successfully distracted, from a time when his oddities were accepted by virtue of being in a group full of them. Scoffing, he said, “It is important to set realistic goals. Let’s begin with trying to pass all your exams.”

***

Shin-chan really was cute, with his sunglasses and his standing obliviously in Takao’s driveway, in full sight, thinking he was being stealthy.

Hm, now he was pacing around Takao’s front door.

Takao thought maybe he should text him and tell him his room had a clear view of his front door, and he could see him, even from his vantage point in bed, with the bag containing the stack of class notes for the school days Takao had missed (joy) and the cold medicine.

Now he could just hear Shin-chan squawk as he read Takao’s message, and dump the bag on Takao’s front step before walking away, much quicker than Shin-chan’s usual pace.

His text after a while was, of course, classic Shin-chan. “I was just around the area.”

***

“Shut up, Takao.”

“I understand now, Shin-chan. And I feel the same way.”

“Shut up, Takao.”

“I would have done the same for you, you know. If I had one whole request to use. I would have made sure we were roommates for the training camp, too.”

“Shut. Up. Takao.”

“You’re blushing! So it is true, you couldn’t live with anyone else on our team but me!”

“Takao. Shut up.”

“And you say you don’t care. Shin-chan, I’m touched. Can you see my tears?”

“I will not say it one more time.”

“So mean, Shin-chan. Shouldn’t you be nicer to me? We’re spending an entire week in training camp together, after all.”

***

“Why are you such an insufferable idiot.”

Midorima pulled the handkerchief he was wrapping around Takao’s hand tighter than he needed to. Takao winced, more from the stormy expression on Midorima’s face than the pain of his injuries. Somehow he did not think joking around would make things better, this time.

But he set his jaw. He could be as stubborn as Shin-chan if he wanted to be.

“You would have punched him too, if you had been there.”

“I most certainly would not have acted like the impulsive fool you were. There are more appropriate ways for dealing with delinquents.”

“Not when they are bullying little children and you’re the only one there.”

Midorima’s fingers stilled, lingering over Takao’s own. Takao was almost positive (he had the Hawk Eye after all) that he brushed over them in an almost-stroke.

“You’re an insufferable idiot,” he finally repeated, no less irritable. But he pulled and tweaked the ends of the handkerchief, so the knot looked perfect. The way he tied it, the kanji for prosperity could just be seen on Takao’s palm. “Take care of my lucky item — I expect to collect it when you have healed satisfactorily.”

***

“It turned out just the way I intended.”

“Regardless, I don’t think shiruko was meant to look like this, Shin-chan.” Shin-chan, however, Takao privately thought, looked good enough in an apron to be _meant_ to wear it.

Midorima sniffed disdainfully. “And you know this because of your boundless knowledge and experience drinking shiruko, I presume.”

“I know this from my boundless knowledge and experience being alive. I have self-preservation instincts, Shin-chan,” Takao jabbed a fork experimentally into the concoction. It sank in before _bouncing_ back out, the rubbery consistency resisting any utensils that had the gall to attack it.

Midorima looked away. “Then I’ll just throw it away. No one will be eating it, anyway.”

Takao looked at him a long while. Then he sighed, heavily.

“You’re in charge of explaining to Miyaji-senpai why I can’t come to practice tomorrow, alright?” He took a deep breath, and then a gulp.

***

After he had gone through all the steps that should have, but did not, dull the pain — playing basketball for hours, on his own, trying to replicate moves that would have, _should_ have, been able to beat Rakuzan, Takao went to comfort Shin-chan, anyway. Shin-chan needed him, after all. Shin-chan needed him more than Takao needed his own space, more than Takao’s own need to be selfish.

“Hey, Shin-chan —”

“I’m busy. I do not have time for your nonsense.”

Takao thought back to the boy who had sat alone during lunch, pretending he didn’t need anyone when all he wanted _was_ to belong in a group again. He thought about Shin-chan, hiding his vulnerabilities behind all that pride.

The can of shiruko had been placed so innocently on the floor next to the Shin-chan’s upright, strong (yet not) back, which was all Takao could see of him. Which made it all the more uncalled for when Shin-chan pushed it away, roughly.

“I am not a child, Takao. I do not require you to make me feel better.”

“Who said I’m here to make you feel better?” Takao said, without his usual blitheness, but with all the bitterness he hoped Shin-chan could not tell he had, because Takao was supposed to be _better_ than that. “I was hoping _you_ could make me feel better.”

Now he could just see Shin-chan’s profile as he turned, very slightly, to look at him. It was a beautiful profile, Takao could not help thinking. Elegant and regal.

“Oha Asa has not provided any guidance.” Shin-chan’s voice sounded more unsure than Takao had ever heard him, and that scared him. He had always counted on Shin-chan to be as certain as the accuracy of his shots.

“Man proposes, right?” Takao said, voice low, with all the gentleness Shin-chan pretended not to accept. “I guess we’ll have to figure it out together.” He heard Shin-chan’s sharp intake of breath. Then the hiss of the can of shiruko opening.

“You look astoundingly pretty when you cry, by the way. You should think about acting in a drama.” Takao sat next to Midorima, close enough so that their shoulders just touched.

“Go die.”

***

“No.”

“But —”

“ _No_.”

“It’s tradition!”

“Acting like imbeciles is a tradition?”

“Team bonding over alcohol! Don’t you want to send Ootsubo-senpai, Miyaji-senpai and Kimura-senpai off in style?”

“We have very different interpretations of what ‘style’ means. I do not have the ignorant simple mind that is required to enjoy these sorts of festivities.”

“Don’t let Miyaji-senpai hear you say that — this was his idea.”

“I think it’s time for me to leave now.”

“Wait! Okay, Shin-chan. If you come to the party, I will drink your portion of sake for you. How’s _that_?”

“I have no interest to see you act doubly foolishly.”

Takao thought again about Shin-chan’s pride, and how he always had to pretend his presence was _essential_ , just so he could let Shin-chan go through the motions, sighing and resignedly agreeing to do anything with Takao. He wondered how many times Shin-chan had been made fun of as a child that made him act that way among people who genuinely enjoyed his company, as _infuriating_ and _exhausting_ as he could be. As intriguing and fascinating as he could be.

Takao sighed theatrically. “I didn’t want to have to do this.” He stared (not too long, he hoped) straight into Shin-chan’s _remarkably_ pretty green eyes. “I took pictures of you standing out in the rain that first time we lost, to Seirin.”

Silence.

“You just looked so pretty, just like a J-drama idol. Kise-kun’s agency is always looking for models —” he was cut off.

“What time is this ridiculous affair happening? I make it a point to be punctual for social occasions.” Takao smiled sharply. “I’ll pick you up! We can go together.”

“...fine.”

Takao hummed as he intentionally skipped closer to Shin-chan.

“Oh, and Takao? Remember to bring the rickshaw. I’ll be buying three crates of shiruko as a parting gift for our senpai. You’ll be cycling them there.”


	5. Twenty Steps on the Path to Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The path to finding closure is a long, meandering one. But it helps to have friends along the way. Ogiwara and Kuroko take their first tentative steps on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for BPS' Challenge 76 (Team Battle), for Team Meikou.

_**Step 1:**   _First, they had to get over the awkwardness. Ogiwara laughs a laugh that he does not entirely feel, and Kuroko’s face breaks from the blank one he has painstakingly trained to develop (at least, not in his eyes).

Like an awkward dance, Ogiwara and Kuroko step towards one another, Kuroko holding out a hand and Ogiwara making for a friendly pat on the shoulder. They both withdraw, and Ogiwara laughs that embarrassingly unnatural laugh again.

Then Ogiwara’s eyes flicker to Kuroko’s nervous tic, as he fingers the wristband on his left wrist. And affection overwhelms the awkwardness, so Ogiwara taps Kuroko on the head and offers to buy him a drink. And Kuroko in turn points out the crumbs from Ogiwara’s granola bar, still on his face after that morning’s breakfast.

 ** _Steps 2, 3 and 4_ : **Ogiwara is surprised that for someone who could be so emotionally mature, Kuroko has a tendency to get into a downward spiral of insecurity, blaming himself for things in the past. He sees it in the way Kuroko skirts around their middle school period in the careful steps of their conversation,  and talks about the universities he is preparing for instead. He sees it in the way Kuroko stutters ever so imperceptibly when he talks about his friends from high school, deliberately omitting where he had met them. 

For Ogiwara himself, he knows he has a long way to go. Even if he becomes the one to bring up basketball, his forced casualness brings a sharp stab of pain to his chest, like an old wound that reopens again and again.  

But Ogiwara knows that his friendship with Kuroko had basketball in its beginning, and had basketball in its (premature) end, and there is no turning away from it if they ever wanted to begin again. So he grits his teeth and leaps the steps required.

 ** _Steps 5, 6 and 7_ : **Ogiwara is a friendly guy. He prides himself on getting along with most other people. He is surprised to realize that this does not necessarily extend to people who are similar in personality to him, however.

Kagami Taiga is irritatingly oblivious, and insensitive to what happens around him. He chews his (multiple) burgers religiously, while Ogiwara and Kuroko step cautiously around one another, in conversation during a third hangout session at Maji burger. Once, he prods Ogiwara, and asks for a one-on-one if Ogiwara is still playing basketball, because he wanted to know how good he was, the person who had “first gotten  _this_  idiot into basketball.” 

Amid the sharp tug in his chest, Ogiwara had made to bite out a retort, but Kuroko gets there before him. With a painful-looking jab to Kagami’s stomach, he apologizes to Ogiwara amidst Kagami’s howl.

“Kagami-kun does not have much in his head, only basketball. He can’t help challenging any basketball-associated people he meets.”

Even though Ogiwara still feels the uncomfortable jerk every time he hears ‘basketball’ said in relation to himself, his laugh finally comes naturally to him. 

And when Kagami challenges him to a burger-eating competition instead, Ogiwara feels like he has made leaps and bounds ahead on the path to normalcy, watching Kuroko watching them, silently sipping his milkshake. Trash-talking Kagami despite himself, and watching Kagami splutter red-faced, speechless in response through a mouth stuffed with burger.

Kuroko had made a better friend than Ogiwara himself. 

 ** _Steps 8, 9 and 10_ : **Ogiwara knew this day would come eventually. He also knew he would never be ready for it.

“Who are you again?” Aomine Daiki had been more fascinated by the basketball he was spinning than Kuroko’s introduction. The ball moved in his hand so smoothly it reminded Ogiwara of all the ways he had not been good enough. And of the neat row of number ones, illustrating all the steps he had taken away from basketball since  _that match_. 

Ogiwara’s breath caught in his throat, but Aomine was a lot less intimidating when he was doubling over, clutching his head from the pain of Kuroko’s whack.

Ogiwara should have been angry at Kuroko for bringing basketball back into his life. He should have been angry that because of him, Ogiwara had to face these monsters again. 

But Aomine had started asking Ogiwara a constant stream of questions ranging from painful ones about basketball to who was his favourite idol. And Ogiwara had been so  _exhausted_ dealing with him, he barely had time to contemplate on his failures and the reminders of them.

“You’re alright, I guess,” Aomine had clapped Ogiwara on the shoulder, after a heated debate on whether teriyaki burgers or noritama were better. Ogiwara would have been more bitter, but he genuinely felt Aomine was “alright,” too.

Especially since Kuroko and Aomine were, in their own turn, still caught in the awkward dance Ogiwara himself was currently caught in with Kuroko. They were, in their own way, still recovering from things Ogiwara was not entirely sure he wanted to know.

 ** _Steps 11, 12 and 13_ : **Even after the initial meeting with Aomine, seeing those other monsters did not get any easier. Much less so when it is Midorima Shintarou.

“Shouldn’t you be making yourself presentable before you meet new people?” Midorima stiffly points out the rice stuck to Ogiwara’s face. Ogiwara can’t even bring himself to be offended. Midorima is so awkward in his attempts to hide his social discomfort that he even puts Ogiwara at ease.  

Ogiwara notes Kuroko’s hidden cringe every time Midorima opens his mouth to correct the way Ogiwara holds his chopsticks, or even how he chews. But Ogiwara finds Midorima more amusing than irritating. It is comforting to note even monsters could feel so uncomfortable in their own skin they hide it under barbs. And Midorima is so uncomfortable showing his concern for others he is more mother hen than monster. 

When Midorima finds out Ogiwara takes part in kendo, it is obvious that he holds him at higher esteem. “That is a worthy pursuit,” he approvingly states, and requests to borrow Ogiwara’s kendo sword ‘just in case.’ 

Later that day, Ogiwara exchanges phone numbers with him, even as Kuroko warns him later to expect daily updates of Leo’s Oha Asa ranking.

 ** _Steps 14, 15 and 16_ : **Kise Ryouta is even more exhausting than Aomine Daiki. Ogiwara is surprised that this is even possible. But of course, these were the Miracles he was talking about. They affected the lives of everyone they met, whether in a good or bad way. 

The good thing is, Kise does all the work. Ogiwara does not even have time to shuffle through the motions of uncomfortable social steps, because Kise bounces enough, and sparkles enough, that it does not even matter.

Also, unlike Aomine, Kise’s constant stream of questions is entirely about Kuroko. 

“How was Kurokochii as a kid? Can I see pictures? Did you have a hard time finding him to play? Was he always this cool?” Ogiwara finds it endlessly amusing, watching Kuroko try to keep a blank face through Kise’s questions. Watching Kuroko shut Kise down with his seemingly blunt, uncaring comments. 

But he also sees the huge soft spot that exists in Kuroko’s heart for Kise. He sees it through the quiet quirk of Kuroko’s lips whenever Kise babbles about how hard he has been training in Kaijou. He sees it in the deliberate understatedness of Kuroko’s questions about Kise’s progress in healing from old injuries. 

He is glad Kuroko has found someone he believes in just as much as Kise believes in him. 

 ** _Steps 17 and 18_ : **An exchange of favourite sweets and snacks later, Murasakibara Atsushi has dubbed Ogiwara “Ogi-chin.” 

And once Ogiwara offhandedly offers to introduce Murasakibara to a new snack shop, he finds it uncannily easy to chat about the different snack brands they both love.

Ogiwara finds Murasakibara easiest to talk to, because he recognizes the patterns of his speech in himself. The careful steps around the topic of basketball, and the focus on a topic that is anything other than the game that still hurt them both.

 ** _Step 19_ : **A few weeks later of meeting almost all of Kuroko’s friends, Ogiwara makes a request. Kuroko, perceptive as always, seems to know it even before Ogiwara has made it.

“You don’t have to meet him until you want to,” Kuroko says.

But Ogiwara does not think he would ever want to meet Akashi Seijurou. He is fine not ever seeing him again. 

Some people were not meant to come back into other’s lives. Ogiwara does not ever want Akashi in his again.

 ** _Step 20_ : **Ogiwara still sees the distance between Kuroko and himself. Despite all the steps they have taken, they still stumble when they talk about a past they used to share and a future they never would in basketball.   

Ogiwara sees Kuroko’s attempts to bridge the distance. He sees in in the way he pushes each of his (now) friends into Ogiwara’s path. He sees it in Kuroko’s longing for Ogiwara to find closure in new acquaintances and a lessening bitterness towards monsters.

He knows, and hopes, to get there eventually. He knows it will take a while. When basketball is the spectre that dominates the path, any new relationships he makes with Kuroko’s friends is haunted by it. And it is difficult to get there when it is the catalyst to the painful throbbing in Ogiwara heart, the ghost of a pain that would never heal.

Step by step, however, he makes his way.

**Author's Note:**

> The BPS Challenge was my first time trying the 20 Things format. I had a lot of fun experimenting with different ways to do this format, so I plan to add to this until it hits 20 chapters. =)
> 
> Because I need more inspiration, I am open to requests for this until completion! Drop me an ask on [tumblr](http://bob2ff.tumblr.com/), or leave a comment below. In your request, please state the character/pairing, and the genre you'd like. =)


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